


Hand

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The full moon's rough on Remus, and Teddy only wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

The door’s left open a crack, letting in the moonlight. The thin sliver climbs across the hall floor and up the wall, and Teddy’s sitting just left of it. He’s got his arms around his legs and his head on his knees. He doesn’t have to put his ear to the door to hear _everything._

Remus is one big _moan._ He’s been groaning and sighing and agonizing all night. The Wolfsbane worked, and the full moon left, but Teddy knows the pain’s still all over him. Remus always tries to smile in the morning like it’s nothing, but Teddy isn’t five anymore, and he isn’t stupid enough to buy it. 

Tonks used to help. Teddy has a lot of issues with his mother, but that isn’t one of them. When she was around, Teddy’s _sure_ it didn’t hurt this much—sure Remus could sleep. But she left, and now she isn’t any help. Now it’s just Teddy, sitting around the side of the door, every time, trying to tell himself this is when he’ll finally do it; he’ll change everything. He was in Gryffindor for a reason. He tries to summon up the courage to do what he wants to. He wonders if he should change himself to look like her—if that would help. 

Or it might make things worse. With a steady breath, Teddy climbs quietly to his feet. He thinks of this every time. The door creaks as he opens it, stepping inside. His father’s whimpering masks it, and Teddy slowly crosses the cold floor, mostly drenched in darkness. 

The pale moonlight through the curtained off window should catch his turquoise hair though, and he keeps it bright so he’s recognizable. He doesn’t want to startle Remus. It isn’t until he’s made it around the side of the bed that Remus rolls over to him, squinting up through the darkness. 

Remus looks like death. He always does at these times. Sallow and sunken, scruffy and unshaven. He’s such a handsome man, but the lycanthropy tears at him. Teddy sees through it all and sits on the edge of the mattress, leaning down to whisper, “Dad...”

Remus winces. He tries to lift a hand out, but he isn’t strong enough, and it falls back down into the pillows. He doesn’t wear nightclothes on these days—the transformation would rip them all to shreds. The blankets are pulled up to his shoulders, and his skin is slick with sweat. His voice is raspy when he mutters, “T... Teddy. I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to wake you...”

“You didn’t.” It’s the truth. Teddy can’t sleep with the full moon glaring in through the curtains. Remus seems to search his eyes, wondering, perhaps, what he’s doing here. Then Remus licks his lips, and Teddy can tell that he’s about to say everything’s alright, even though it clearly _isn’t._ So Teddy rushes to say first, “I can’t sleep. Could I... could I stay with you...?”

He’s much too old to sleep with his parents. Remus’ face scrunches up in confusion, then twitches to the side at another spasm of pain. Teddy automatically reaches for Remus’ disheveled hair, petting it and trying to be soothing. Remus breaks into a coughing fit, unable to answer.

So Teddy takes it like a ‘yes.’ He peels off his nightshirt, tossing it aside. It’s summer, and his father’s already swamped in blankets. It’ll be too hot; that’s his excuse. He lifts the blankets up and slips underneath them before Remus can protest, and he sidles up close, pushing Remus back in the mattress to keep them both from tumbling over the edge.

Then he wraps his arm around the trembling form of his father. Remus’ body is still bigger than his, but not by much, and times like this, he can stretch—just a little—so he’ll be tall enough to do a good job. He doesn’t change much; he’s always being told to _just be himself._ But he wants himself to be whatever Remus wants, and he finds himself whispering, “Would it help if I looked like Mom?”

Remus coughs again and sighs, “Don’t say that.” He tries to hold Teddy back, but his grip isn’t as secure. Teddy hooks his chin over Remus’ shoulder and squeezes him; a fierce hug that says ‘I’m here.’ Remus smells musky and raw, like sweat and fur. Teddy can feel his father’s ribs against his chest, and even the strong shoulder blades beneath his fingers protrude too much. Remus’ words are muffled by Teddy’s shoulder. “Just be you. I like you best as you.”

Teddy knows. He used to try and perfect himself when he was little. Change his nose, change his chin. But he never got the attention for it. He _knows_ his father loves him, he does, more than anything, and it’s part of what makes hearing those noises so painful. 

Another chill wracks through Remus’ body, and Teddy clings tighter, purring, “Shh. It’s okay, Dad, I’m here... you’re okay...” It’s a lie, but it seems to help. He can hear Remus’ mouth opening and smacking dryly, probably to say that Teddy doesn’t have to do this. “I’m with you. I want to be with you. I’m here for you, always...”

“It’s not your burden,” Remus croaks. 

Teddy only untangles himself enough to kiss Remus’ cheek, and then a little more, so he can lean his forehead against Remus’ and look directly into his eyes. “You aren’t a burden. And you shouldn’t have to suffer alone. I want... Dad, I want to make you feel better...”

Smiling sadly, Remus mumbles, “You do, Teddy. Every day.”

Teddy returns the weak smile, but that isn’t what he meant. He gently tucks Remus’ bangs behind his ear while thinking of what to say. Or rather, how to say it. They’re so close right now that Teddy can feel Remus’ stale breath across his lips, and every shudder reverberates into him, right down their bared chests. Teddy’s still wearing his pajama bottoms, but his father...

His father’s completely naked, and probably doesn’t even realize how close they are despite that; he’s so out of it. Teddy gulps and closes his eyes: he needs to stay focused. He has to start small and up top. He sucks in a breath. He got this far; he can get further. 

He doesn’t open his eyes. He knows where his father is. He tilts his head slightly and closes the small gap between them. As soon as his lips touch Remus’, a jolt runs down his spine, and Remus makes a startled sound. Teddy doesn’t let up. He resists the urge to plunge his tongue into his father’s parting lips, and he pulls back too soon. 

“I want to make you feel better.” He doesn’t want to meet Remus’ eyes, but he has to. They’re full of confusion.

Teddy does it again; he leans in for another. He presses harder this time, and his fingers press down into his father’s back, holding him in, and he parts his lips slightly. Remus’ are already open. Teddy runs his tongue along Remus’ bottom lip, but he doesn’t go inside, not yet. Remus’ lips are surprisingly soft, though dry, until Teddy wets them. He hooks his leg over his father’s hip, pressing them together, and he doesn’t pull back again until Remus gently tugs at his hair. 

“Teddy.” Remus keeps his eyes closed. He opens his mouth and just manages, “Teddy...”

“It’s not just that,” Teddy mumbles. “I do want to make you feel better, but I do want you, too. I have for a really long time, and when Mom left, I...”

“I know.” Remus gulps. Teddy doesn’t see how he could. It’s Teddy’s turn to be confused, and Remus licks his lips, looking elsewhere as he continues, “I can... I can smell it on you...”

Teddy flushes. He should’ve known. Werewolves can smell attraction—can smell arousal. They’re _not normal_. He’s part ever-changing, part animal. How many times have they gone swimming together or played Quidditch shirtless? Teddy always looks too much. He wasn’t sad enough when his mother left. When he waits outside the door, and sometimes he gets restless, has his father ever realized...?

There isn’t any disgust on Remus’ face. Teddy wasn’t expecting hatred, but... he didn’t know what he was expecting. Remus says slowly, “Teddy, I’m your father, and you’re very young—”

Teddy isn’t, really. He knows he’ll always be a child to his father, but he isn’t one. He cuts Remus off to say firmly, “I don’t care. My feelings aren’t going to change. They haven’t for _years_ , Dad, and...”

“I’m old,” Remus croaks. He looks smaller than he ever has in Teddy’s arms. He looks like he wants to say more, but another fit of coughing cuts him off, and as soon as it’s over, Teddy’s smashing their lips back together. He doesn’t want to hear excuses. He doesn’t care about age or lycanthropy or even bloodlines. Purebloods used to mess around with one another all the time anyway, and he’s not too far removed from those wizarding lines. He cares about Remus’ feelings, and if he got a ‘no,’ he’d stop. 

Instead he gets a tongue tentatively in his mouth, about a minute in. Teddy moans instantly and sucks it in, running his own along it, coaxing more out. He should’ve done this before the full moon, when his father’s a wolf, energetic and strong. Now he has to be careful. He’s gentle, and he lets his father explore his mouth gently, mouths warm and wet. Teddy chances pressing his crotch harder into Remus, and it earns him a heady moan. He starts to slowly grind their hips together, his own clothed cock brushing Remus’. Remus is still soft, but Teddy’s half hard, and the kiss only sends more blood rushing down. Remus’ hands run down Teddy’s side to hold his hips, holding him still. 

Teddy whimpers and breaks the kiss. It’s probably good, though. He’s not sure how long he’d be able to last without humping Remus like a dog. Remus pants, “You’re sure?”

Teddy nods too frantically. “I want you so much. It doesn’t have to be hard. Just... just let me do something for you, something to take the pain away...” His hand’s trailing down Remus’ back as he says it, until his fingers are caressing his father’s ass, squeezing it lightly. Remus groans, and Teddy bites his lip to keep quiet. 

He brings his hand around the front, encircling his father’s shaft. The blankets cover everything, but he still knows what it looks like, and his mind fills in all the blanks. He’s stolen too many glances not to. It’s so warm against his palm, already a little wet—there’s a thin sheen of sweat all over Remus’ skin. Teddy can’t help but compare it to his own. It feels the same, but he can tell that it’s bigger, and he squeezes it lightly, pulling moans from both of them. 

Teddy wants to duck under the blankets and swallow it. He wants to lick every centimeter of his father. He wants to taste from Remus’ toes to his ears, and Teddy especially wants to kiss Remus’ cock, suck it into his mouth and fill himself up. He wants to climb onto it and ride it or maybe just have Remus ride him, bend him over and fuck him like a wolf, hard and feral. Sometimes, he fantasizes about running off into the woods, animals without conventions. But he knows he can’t do that right now. Remus can’t handle that much exertion. Maybe just enough to put him to sleep, to counterbalance the pain, to calm him down and give him butterflies, make him feel loved. Remus doesn’t move, perhaps because he can’t, and Teddy asks hopefully, “Is this alright...? I’ll be careful, and we don’t have to do anymore, not right now...”

“This is dangerous.”

“Dad, say yes.”

For a moment, it looks like Remus will say no. And Teddy’s crestfallen. Then Remus lunges at him, all at once, rolling them over so that Remus is on top of him, held up on all fours. Teddy’s eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t let go, either of his father’s back or his father’s cock. Remus brings their lips back together, and the kiss is messier than it would be on any other day, awkward and difficult, but it makes Teddy’s chest swell. He doesn’t care that Remus collapses onto him the next second, crushing their chests together, or that Remus’ body shakes and groans, rutting shallowly into Teddy’s hand. It’s heavy and very, very hot. Remus tries to kiss his cheek, brush through his hair, nuzzle into him and hold him, and Teddy loves every effort, even the failed ones. He doesn’t mind the trembling fingers. He strokes the warm cock in his hand, pumping steadily and firmly, and it fills and hardens in his grasp. The thought that this cock made Teddy makes him feel indescribably dirty, and that’s half of what makes it so good. 

He’ll probably get punished for this later. Scolded for being so naughty. That idea only makes him harder. He pulls his cock out of his pajamas and tries to fit it in his hand too, and when they both rub together, Teddy cries out. He holds them both and strokes them together, and Remus moans beautifully as he grinds into it. He humps Teddy’s hand like an animal. He kisses Teddy’s ear and whispers, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” Teddy pants. “Always love you, in every way...”

Remus doesn’t last long. He comes undone in a matter of several minutes, with a strangled cry. Then he splatters Teddy’s hand, still rutting and gasping. Teddy isn’t that far behind. The thought and feel of his father’s cum painting his chest makes him _scream_. He’s never experienced anything hotter in his whole life. The orgasm is the most intense he’s ever had, and for a moment, he sees stars.

Then his father drops fully onto him, limbs falling to the side, knocking the wind out of Teddy. Remus is long and covers him completely, like a human blanket. When Remus tries to roll off, Teddy grabs him, not wanting to let him go. 

It takes him a minute to get his head straight. He’s foggy and giddy. Spent and ecstatic, all at once. Remus’ face is a mixture of guilt and pleasure, and he doesn’t say anything, probably because Teddy must look so happy. They struggle for breath together. 

Then Remus mumbles, “Teddy, I need... need to lie down...”

“Sorry.” Teddy lets Remus slip off, and he shifts back to make room. Remus looks like he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open, and Teddy rolls onto his side, stroking Remus’ sides and face fondly. “I’m here, Dad. If you need anything. If you want anything.”

Remus mutters, eyes closed, “I don’t deserve you.”

Remus deserves so much more than Teddy can give. All he can do is lie there, petting and holding. Remus’ breathing slowly evens out, until he’s asleep, face more relaxed than it’s ever been. 

Teddy holds his father’s hand, and he doesn’t go to sleep yet, because he wants to savour everything.


End file.
